Page 44 of Mortis

His smile widened. “They’re not the same thing.”

“Then what do you mean?”

Without answering, Kael took my hand and led me to the embalming table. His grip was warm despite the latex glove. The embalming fluid bottles were only half empty. We still had at least another hour before the process finished.

The demon stepped in behind me, his chest warm against my back. He lifted my hand and guided it to the base of Mr Cartwright’s throat.

“This is where the soul lives,” he murmured, as though sharing a secret meant only for me.

The low rumble of his voice sent an involuntary shiver racing down my spine. It took everything in me to ignore it and focus on what he was saying.

“This man’s soul still burns brightly,” he continued. “He’s not been dead for long. But he’s grateful for the care you’re taking with his body.”

“Is he . . . Is he talking to you?” I whispered.

Kael shook his head, loose strands of dark hair brushing softly against my cheek.

“No. But I can see its light. I can feel it. Whenever you speak, his soul grows warmer with gratitude.”

I stared at the pale skin beneath my hand. “I can’t see anything.”

A quiet chuckle vibrated through Kael’s chest. “Would you like to?”

I drew in a sharp breath.

Would I?

The sensible answer was probably no.

A soul felt intimate. Personal. The very thing that made someone them. Ghosts apparently didn’t exist, but souls did. And somehow they remained long after the heart had stopped beating.

Curiosity had always been my greatest weakness. It was why I’d spent half my childhood peering into the embalming room while my grandad worked. It was why I’d become a mortuary technician. It was why I’d cooked human arse for a demon less than twelve hours ago.

One day, curiosity was almost certainly going to kill me.

Today, though, I wanted to see a soul.

“Yes.”

Kael released me, and the sudden absence of his warmth was strangely noticeable. He walked around to the top of the embalming table, by Mr Cartwright’s head, before placing his hand gently over mine.

“Watch carefully.”

I nodded.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him close his eyes and inhale. A gentle warmth spread beneath my palm. It startled me enough that I almost snatched my hand away, but Kael’s hand remained firmly over mine. He gave my fingers the faintest reassuring squeeze.

The warmth intensified. When I looked closer, I realised it wasn’t just heat. A soft golden glow was spreading through Mr Cartwright’s chest. It slowly climbed his throat, growing brighter as it travelled, until it settled beneath his lips like a tiny sun.

By then it was almost impossible to look at directly.

“That,” Kael whispered. “Is his soul.”

“Wow.” The light looked as warm as it felt. Part of me desperately wanted to touch it. “How long do they stay?” I asked quietly.

“Seven days,” he replied, eyes never leaving the glow. “They fade a little more each day.”

I nodded slowly. Mr Cartwright had been dead less than forty-eight hours. That explained why his soul still shone so brightly. I couldn’t even imagine what it must’ve looked like moments after his death.